


Underthings

by Prawnperson



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, Fluff, Other, Pining, Suggestive Themes, Underwear, WX is tsun, Walani is squishy, based loosely off that P&P scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26166514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prawnperson/pseuds/Prawnperson
Summary: Walani is quite content to nip back and forth between tents in her undercrackers. After all, it’s no more revealing than a bikini, right?
Relationships: Walani/WX-78 (Don't Starve)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Underthings

“I can wear either this blue dress or the white one, although Willow gave me the blue dress, so I had to let it out a little and you know I’m rubbish at that.”

“I don’t know why you’re asking me.”

Walani huffs and crosses her arms to the best of her ability without crushing either of the dresses in her hands. The blue one is the colour of the sea, but the white one is the colour of the surf of its waves, and she’s entirely unsure.

“I’m asking you because you’re always asking me if I liked your soup! It’s the same thing.”

Warly gives the two dresses a brief look before going back to buttoning his own shirt.

“The red one, then, that you got from that shadow box a few weeks ago. That’s miles nicer, mon amie.”

She knows the one he means. It has a low neck and a long skirt.

“That’s brilliant!”

The summers are always painfully hot here, and while Walani usually prefers trousers for her surfing, a cool dress is always a blessing when the sun is so very cruel. 

She steps out of Warly’s tent to nip back to her own and retrieve the red dress. She’s still in her underpants, grass soft beneath her stocking clad feet, thankfully dry of the morning dew, which she’s recently become all too familiar with after having to start getting up so early.

The distance is so short that she doesn’t think to do anything to cover herself.

———

WX-78 walks towards the tents with their usual expression—a scowl—firmly fixed on their face. The early morning patrol to check and replace the traps in the adjacent parts of grassland had been a blessed moment of quiet, but now they have to go back to all their stupid minions in order to deposit the morsels and grass they picked up on their way. 

Their backpack is still full of meat that will turn quickly in the heat if they aren’t careful, but they’d like to have a word with Hal. A few minutes before reaching the icebox won’t do any harm. Their tent isn’t very far, just pass the next hay wall.

They’re so preoccupied with their thoughts that they don’t notice the figure rounding the corner, nor do they manage to stop themselves before bumping into it—her. Her. 

Oh, no, her.

Walani lands squarely on her ass and it’s then they notice that she’s wearing underthings. Their eyes don’t quite know where to go, and after a few moments, they decide her ankle is a good choice.

“Oh, man, sorry!”

Of course, she should be sorry, inferior fleshling that she is, bumping into them, probably sullying their chassis with her...human-ness. 

“SORRY.”

They blurt, too, instantly hating themselves. Walani smiles up at them and clambers to her feet. 

“You get your traps all cleared, rusty?”

“YES. NO. SHUT UP.”

“M’kay. Hey, can I ask you, what do you think, should I wear one of these two dresses, or the red one I got? Do you know the one I mean?”

They do. It has a low neck and a long skirt.

It’s...pretty...

“ROBOTS DO NOT CARE ABOUT FASHION.”

“Yeah, I know, but, like, gut reaction. Wire reaction, I guess. Ha!”

WX-78 wonders if they should tell her that out of all fleshling attributes, their wires would be most like genitalia, or very, very sensitive nerves. They decide against it. 

“WEAR THE RED ONE. IT WILL NOT PROTECT YOUR FRAGILE BODY.”

“Coolio! Thanks, sparks!”

And with that, she skips off, although not in the direction of her tent. No, she goes back the way she came.

As they turn to scamper off to the icebox, they hear Walani and the cooking fleshling burst into a fit of laughter.


End file.
